Undisclosed Desires
by trekkiegirl92
Summary: Erilyn Cromwell and Draco Malfoy have been friends since childhood, until they become Death Eaters and begin to see each other in another light. Kind of AU. Keywords: Draco/OC, Romance, Love, Angst
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: All usual disclaimers apply. I didn't intend for Draco to be so angsty, but oh well, I think he's still reasonably in character._

Chapter 1

I rubbed my temples discreetly with my fingertips and sighed, my ears ringing from my mother's incessant chatter. From six to seven-thirty each night, dinner was served at my family's estate and I was required to attend.

"Narcissa wore the loveliest robe to lunch yesterday…" Mother droned, and I listened for about two seconds before tuning out, continuing to twirl my fork between my fingers. Across the table, my older brother, Richard, pushed a vegetable back and forth across his ornate silver plate with an expression of one about to die from boredom.

It's no secret that I come from one of the wealthiest pureblood families in England. It couldn't be, after all, when we practically live in a palace, complete with soaring gables, gargoyles perched on the corners of the third story, courtyard gardens, a crystal chandelier bigger than I am, and a nine foot tall wrought iron gate and fence around the estate.

Our formal dining room, like the rest of our house, is colossal. Wide windows look out across the rich, green slopes of the Lancaster countryside, and a large moving tapestry of two medieval ladies sipping tea and sneaking tarts under their veils hangs opposite. Despite the windows, the sun never seems to be able to reach more than a foot inside at any part of my house. The dining table itself is a massive, long, dark wood slab, with matching chairs spaced out so far one would think we wouldn't be able to talk to each other.

"Stop playing with your food, Richard," my mother scolded my older brother, who sullenly frowned and put his fork down as my mother looked at him with an expression of distaste. I found it amusing that my beautiful, dark wisp of a mother could still order my twenty-two year old brute of a brother around. He crossed his arms with a grunt after pushing up the sleeves of his black dress shirt, and I briefly glimpsed his Dark Mark on his right forearm. Noticing my glance, Richard glared at me especially hard. Despite my distaste for her, I would be lying if I said Mum wasn't beautiful, with her dark, almond shaped eyes, curved smile, and thick, black hair. Unfortunately, her mind and whatever scrap of a soul she might have were polluted with generations of dark magic.

Beside me, my younger sister, Elisabeth, snickered, then yelped as Richard kicked her under the table. She recited to our mother what she had learned from her private tutor today. Elisabeth is the perfect replica of our mother, and it's not exactly a secret that she's the favored child in the family.

"Are you looking forward to starting your sixth year, Erilyn?" my mother asked me, feeling a duty to inquire about my life, which she had pretty much already planned for me. I envied Richard because she had stopped asking about him two years ago when he became a Death Eater.

I shrugged, and grunted. Like I was looking forward to sharing a room with Millicent Bulstrode again.

"Have you looked at your new spellbooks yet?"

"Not really." I had flipped through _Advanced Potionmaking_, only to find my brain hurting already.

"Do your robes from last year still fit?"

"Yeah." I hadn't grown in three years, not like she would have noticed or anything.

"Who are your friends nowadays, Erilyn?"

I grimaced at the sound of my full name. I hated being called Erilyn.

"I don't talk to many people outside of my year in Slytherin, Mum. And quite frankly, even then I don't have much tolerance for them," I said quietly and coolly, trying to evade the question.

"Erilyn," she chided me, and I scowled.

"If you want the truth, I've never been friends with anyone other than Draco Malfoy. And I'm still not, despite you trying to push Blaise Zabini on me this summer. I don't care that the Malfoys are out of favor with the Dark Lord…"

My mother held up a hand which silenced my hot outburst immediately.

"Ah, I have not told you the good news yet! Your friend has taken his father's place at the Dark Lord's side, and he is working to earn back His favor," my mother said, smiling like this was the happiest news she had ever heard. My stomach dropped out, and my cool, reserved expression wavered for a moment. Draco? A Death Eater? Ever since I had known him when we were in diapers, nothing scared him more than becoming a Death Eater. I forced a smile on my face, when I wanted nothing more than to run upstairs and get an owl to him as fast as I could, demanding to know what had happened over the summer.

"That's great," I said mechanically, drawing my emotions back into the deeper part of me, where they couldn't be touched, where they were safe. "That's the best news I've heard all summer!" Then I grabbed my wine glass and started chugging it as fast as I could manage. It looked like I would need it.

My mother smiled at me kindly. "I'm so happy for you, dear. I know how sorely you've missed his company. And now I have even better news." She exchanged a glance with Richard, who was stoic as usual, occupied with his stomach and how to shovel the most treacle tart in his face at once. "You, too, have been deemed ready and worthy to honor our family by taking your place at the Dark Lord's side!"

I spat out the wine that was in my mouth, gagging on it. _"What?"_ I managed to choke out, spluttering hysterically. This wasn't supposed to happen! I was terrified of this, and had dreaded this moment my whole life. The night Harry Potter came back with the body of Cedric Diggory, announcing the Dark Lord's return, I had spent the night crying in terror that I would have to serve him, or he would kill me. Now I was faced with that fact again.

"You, Erilyn, are to become a Death Eater! Isn't that just splendid? I'll have to throw a party after the deed is done, and everyone will come. Why, I haven't ever felt prouder in my life!" my mother happily exclaimed, beaming down the table at me. Richard made a muffled noise of discontent, spraying some dessert at me. "Of course, I've never been prouder except when you became one, sweet heart." Richard looked somewhat mollified. "Now, your initiation will begin at sundown tonight…"

I didn't hear anything after that. I was glad I had eaten hardly anything as usual, or else I would have been sick. I arranged my facial features into a darkly pleased expression to hide my terror. "More wine?" I squeaked, holding out my empty glass.

"Oh, yes! We must have a toast! To the Dark Lord!" my mother proudly exclaimed, and my family joyfully raised their glasses in unison. Mine was shaking.

"To the Dark Lord!" Elisabeth and Richard chorused, and the wine burnt going down my throat to my twisting stomach.

"To the Dark Lord," I gasped after swallowing too much, avoiding the smiling faces of my family by looking at the tapestry of the two medieval ladies, who raised their cups of tea to me in return, smiling evilly.

I was wrong about not eating enough to be sick. I threw up the moment after I had scribbled a short letter to Draco and sent it, telling him what had happened. The further the sun sank toward the horizon, the worse I felt. I dressed in my customary black, putting on black jeans, a cotton t-shirt, and black wool pea coat. I splashed cool water from the dark granite faucet in my bathroom on my face and neck, and looked up at my reflection. My brown eyes were red and puffy, and my pale skin had turned sallow and sweaty. My dark copper hair hung in damp strands in my face.

A knock sounded at my door, and my mother's soft and muffled voice called to me, asking if I was ready.

"Coming!" I weakly exclaimed, splashing some more water on my face and sweeping my hair back in a ponytail. I grabbed my wand off the counter and stuck it in an inside pocket of my coat. Outside my door, my mother and Richard were waiting, dressed in long black cloaks. My mother had a similar cloak draped over her arm, and swept it around my shoulders with a caring smile, pressing a kiss to my forehead.

"I'm so proud of you," she said tearfully. "Don't worry, you'll do fine," she reassured me, and Richard gruffly nodded, placing a heavy metal mask over his face as he drew the hood of his cloak up. I followed him down the large, curved white marble staircase to the foyer of my house, our footsteps causing the crystal beads of the chandelier to jiggle. Outside, the sun was nearly completely down, and the summer air smelled heavily of the flowers in the large garden. Richard held his arm out to me, and taking a deep breath, I took it. Instantly, we Disapparated with a crack.

I hated it when my brother Side-Along Apparated with me, because usually he went really slow just to see me squirm, but this time he went extremely fast, and I had hardly shut my eyes before we stopped spinning and I opened them to find myself on a deserted, unfamiliar cobbled street. Richard paused for a moment, pulling me into the shadows by the elbow as a few Muggles walked by.

"This way," he quietly said, and I pulled up the hood of my cloak and followed him into the night, our footsteps echoing as we slunk along in the shadows. We marched up the hill through silent streets, stepping into the shadows whenever there was a chance that we would be seen. Finally, we reached our destination: a large and sinister looking graveyard on the top of the hill. Goosebumps prickled under my coat as we slipped through the creaking black gates and wove through ancient looking tombstones, jutting crookedly out of the ground. I prepared myself for what I would have to do, searching for the cold stillness that lay deep inside of me, that I drew upon whenever I had to be absolutely merciless to do what was necessary.

Finally, we reached the center of the graveyard, which was the decrepit entrance to an underground crypt. My brother produced his wand from inside his cloak and drew it slowly along his left wrist, a thin cut running in its wake. As little droplets of blood began to leak through the broken skin, he rubbed his arm over the wood door, and I heard bolts clicking and unlocking inside before he shoved the sticking door open.

My brother held the door open for me, and grunted that I was to go in. I peered down the long, dark passageway. The stairs were old and dilapidated, and the passage was earthen and dark, so I could only see a few steps in front of me. The air smelled moist and cold, and there was no way of telling how far underground I would have to go. When Richard nudged me as I hesitated, I straightened my cloak and smartly began to descend down the crooked stairs, losing count rather quickly. I could hear Richard's heavy breathing behind me. Gradually, my eyes adjusted to the darkness and I could see the end of the stairs in an earthen corridor with a few doors on either side, one of which was lit faintly with flickering candlelight. This was my moment to live or die. I had to do this, I had no choice. I steadied myself with a deep breath and lowered the hood of my robes, and stepped inside.

The room was like the staircase: dark, with a dusty wood floor and earthen walls. It felt cold and smelled like death. There was a semicircle of Death Eaters in black robes and masks, the light dancing off the metal beautifully. There was only one person other than me who was unmasked, whose identity was clear.

I had to concentrate to keep putting one foot in front of the other as Richard closed the circle behind me, and to keep the terror off my face as I approached the Dark Lord. I was relieved when he raised one on his long, pale hands to signal me to stop approaching when I reached the center of the circle; another step and I surely would have fallen over from fright.

Raising my eyes as the silence in the room deepened, I looked for the first time upon the notorious Dark Lord. He was tall and skeletally thin, whose face was whiter than a skull, with wide, livid scarlet eyes and a nose that was flat as a snake's with slits for nostrils. His black robes seemed to become alive when he moved closer to me, and he smiled a grotesque grin when he noticed my eyes flick to watch them for an instant before returning to his face. I kept my eyes planted squarely on his nose, I would rather do anything than have to stare into his scarlet snake-eyes.

"You have quite an eye for detail, don't you, Miss Cromwell?" he asked. The Dark Lord's voice was as terrifying as his appearance, the sound best resembling a snake's hiss. I found my own voice had done the sensible thing and run away and hidden somewhere, and I stared back coldly at him.

"When the Dark Lord asks you a question, you answer, girl," a woman's voice hissed angrily from the other side of the circle.

"Silence, Bellatrix," the Dark Lord said, and I gulped. By Bellatrix, I could only assume he meant Bellatrix Lestrange, who gave me nightmares as a little girl when my mother used to invite her over for tea before she was thrown in Azkeban.

"I suppose so, mi'lord," I whispered, licking my dry lips. The wizard's attention returned to me, and suddenly he was right in front of me. I pointedly stared at my feet, and was a little too aware of how fast my heart was beating.

"Why won't you look me in the eye, Miss Cromwell?" he hissed, so quietly and lightly I wasn't sure the other Death Eaters could even hear him.

"I didn't want to be disrespectful," I managed to choke out. I flinched when I realized I forgot to address him by title. "Mi'lord."

"Don't lie to me, Miss Cromwell," he replied in the same whisper, and lifted my chin up with a long, pale finger. My eyes were forced to meet his terrifying red ones, and I found my body curiously frozen, as if under a spell. Then, my mind started to flicker uncontrollably through my memories, and I realized that I was. I tried to scream, but couldn't move, and was forced to re-live my life in fast motion as the Dark Lord used Legillimency on me.

He knew everything. He knew that the only reason I was becoming a Death Eater was because I was terrified of what would happen if I didn't. He knew how I felt like there was no one else in the world that I could depend on besides myself, and how I dominated other people because I was afraid of feeling vulnerable, and how I pushed Draco away because I was afraid of feeling vulnerable, even though I had loved him ever since I was seven years old when he pulled me out of the river in the woods near his manor after I fell in when I walked too close along the rocks even though he told me not to. I hadn't realized I loved him completely until I was looking back, however forcibly or horrifically it was brought about. Hogwarts and the past five years there were flashing by faster and faster, and my overwhelming loneliness of this summer warranted no more lingering than the snap of a finger.

The spell ended and I was brought back to myself suddenly with a jolt. I was on all fours, gasping damp underground air in huge gulps at the Dark Lord's feet. Shaking, I managed to catch my breath and staggered to my feet, and slowly raised my eyes to the Dark Lord's face, becoming aware of someone else in the room. I could hear muffled, terrified sobs behind me, and I slowly turned around.

A woman was before me, tied to a beaten looking wooden chair and gagged. She was shivering and tears ran down her cheeks, and her dark hair was frizzy and tangled, and plastered to her scalp with sweat where it touched her forehead. Her face was taught and pale, her eyes empty and blank with fear. The resulting vision was grotesque and frightening. I felt no remorse for her, whoever she was, but only a distant sickness and revulsion about what I _had _to do, what the Dark Lord was whispering in my ear. The Death Eaters in the circle seemed to lean forward in excitement and eagerness.

Somehow my wand had found its way into my hand, and I raised it, my hands damp and sweaty around its wooden handle, which I was griping so hard my knuckles were turning white. I watched the tip shake as I reached deep inside myself for the strength to do this.

"_Crucio!"_

The screams began, but I quickly became deaf to them. She cried out for mercy many times between sobs, but I was afraid to stop without the Dark Lord's permission. The Death Eaters around me were becoming more agitated, moving closer and hissing excitedly. I was forced to split the half of me that was screaming at me that this was wrong, that I had to stop, from the other side that was the cold survivor, who knew that I had to kill or be killed myself. It's not as if my protesting would have saved her anyways, I told myself, as I forced myself to not listen to the woman's shrieks bouncing painfully against my eardrums. I wasn't sure how long I tortured her with the Cruciatus Curse, but when I stopped, it was long enough for everyone to know I did not stop from weakness, that if the Dark Lord asked me to keep going, I would. My eyes slowly raised to meet his, and I no longer needed to fight to keep the emotion from my face, as I no longer felt any. I felt empty and dead inside, like a walking corpse. His terrible face split into a smile.

"Kill her," he whispered. I realized now that I was out of breath and sweating too, and I stared blankly at the woman who hadn't stopped screaming and twisting in her chains even though I had stopped torturing her. The other part of me struggled to break free for a moment, crying out in sickness and revulsion, before I crushed it again. "Don't you know the words?"

"Yes," I said, but the voice sounded like it was coming from far away as I raised my wand and closed my eyes and pointed my wand at her. I reached deep inside me, deeper than I ever had before, to the cold passion that lay in dark pools in the recesses of my mind. I opened my eyes.

"_AVADA KEDAVRA!"_

There was a green flash, and she was gone. I stared at her for a few hollow moments, stunned at what I had done, then I slowly turned my gaze to Voldemort after surveying the motionless masks surrounding me. The Dark Lord had his strange red eyes closed and face tilted up, as if he was savoring the moment, before he turned his gaze to me, his snake-like face unreadable.

"My, my, the Sorting Hat was right. What a cold passion you have, Erilyn," he softly said, drawing closer again. I should have felt something, but I didn't. I could have done anything then, if he had ordered me to do so. I would have killed every single person in the room. It was a sickening feeling, knowing that I could.

He motioned behind him, and one of the masked Death Eaters came forward, holding a sterling silver tray carved with serpents with a decanter on it, full of dark liquid. The Dark Lord took the elaborate goblet from the tray, and presented it to me. I stared blankly at it.

"Drink it," he ordered me.

I took the goblet with both hands, not trusting my numb, slippery fingers not to drop it, and held it in front of my lips for a moment, closing my eyes to the purple, swirling potion and inhaling.

"It's poison," I barely whispered, lips shaking. No, it couldn't be! I had come this far, hadn't I?

"Do you trust me?" the Dark Lord hissed menacingly. I looked into the goblet at the swirling deep purple liquid through my lowered eyelids, then closed them and drank the goblet. The potion felt cool to my mouth but burned going down my throat, and I forced myself to finish the goblet in one gulp. The instant I was finished, it slipped from my fingers to the floor as I gasped, clutching at my burning neck. It _was_ poison.

"Poison," I gasped, staring up at the Dark Lord with wide eyes. The tips of my fingers were beginning to tingle and feel cold already, and I felt tired suddenly. It wasn't just poison, it was the Draught of Living Death. It wasn't incredibly strong, or I would be dead already, but I could feel it slowly draining the life from me. "You've poisoned me."

"The third part of your initiation," the Dark Lord smoothly said. "Is a testing of skills. You have already proven your loyalty and trust, and now you must brew your own antidote to show your worthiness to me."

The wizard moved aside slightly and I could see that a cauldron and table with ingredients and tools was prepared for me. I walked forward slowly, unable to demonstrate the grace I had earlier as I focused on not staggering. I was passable at potions, I had received an 'Outstanding' on my O.W.L., although I felt like I didn't deserve it, since the only reason I did so well was Draco tutored and studied with me. I did not know the precise antidote, but I had read the recipe to the Draught of Living Death in my new potions book before, and had learned about it from Snape previously. I distantly wondered if he was here at my initiation. I hoped he wasn't. I didn't want the only teacher I actually liked to see me die.

My hands operated mechanically, obeying the instructions as I made what I could remember and improvised the rest. A bezor to counter the sopohorous, salamander blood to strengthen the tired body, crushed scarab beetles to sharpen the wits that had been dulled… the list went on and on, and my potion changed from deep blue to clear as water gradually. By the time I was nearing finished, my mind was moving so sluggishly I could hardly keep concentrated on one coherent thought, and could not stand steadily. My hands were shaking so hard that I was unable to ladle the clear antidote into the goblet and spilled it all over the table and floor. My eyelids kept drooping shut as my knees shook and locked and gave out, and I fought my own collapse into endless sleep: living death. I slid down to the floor of the room, and tried to slide along the floor and pull myself to my feet on the table, only to find that I lacked the strength. I had come so far, only to fail in the end.

I prayed that Draco wasn't one of the masked Death Eaters watching my initiation. Tears ran down my cheeks as I realized that I was going to die, clear as day, and that I couldn't hold on much longer. Then, I felt the back of my head be tilted up, and cool liquid slide down my throat. I spluttered a few times and was able to open my eyes, finding the draining of my energy and life stopped. The Dark Lord stood over me, and was replacing the silver goblet on the table.

"Rise, my child," he grandly said, holding out a long, pale spider of a hand to me. "You have proven yourself worthy."

Confused, I hesitated for a moment as I tried to remember completely what had just happened, and I reached out to take his hand. The Dark Lord instead reached farther and seized my wrist in a vice-like grip as he pulled me to my feet with a sadistic grin. Suddenly, a burning pain worse than anything I had ever experienced or imagined erupted on my wrist, encircling it like fire ripping across my flesh, and I screamed uncontrollably as the Dark Mark was emblazoned on me at last.

After my initiation, Richard brought me back home. I endured my mother's fawning and my sister's jealousy, then ran upstairs and locked myself in my room. The two halves of myself I had tried so hard to keep separate during the initiation, the emotions I had coldly crushed, came rushing back all at once. I threw up what little food was in my stomach, then I collapsed on my bed, sobbing uncontrollably, utterly overwhelmed with what I had done. Eventually I calmed down enough to flick my wand at my lamp on a bedside table and turn it on, before I looked down at the wand in my hand and flung it away, sobbing hysterically and burying my face in my pillows. I had never been so afraid of anything, of what I was capable of and dying in my entire life.

Finally, I think my eyes cried themselves dry and I began to hear a small tapping sound on my window. I was frightened for a moment, then remembered that I had sent an owl to Draco. The poor creature was probably out there tapping for the past hour. I rolled off my bed and pulled the white lace curtains away from the window and raised the blinds, only to see nothing but darkness and my own dim reflection in the glass. I looked like hell. I must have been hearing things. It would figure.

I sank slowly down on the floor with my back against the side of my bed, and lowered my face to my knees, feeling empty and ill from the nausea and dead tired from crying. Then I heard another tap, followed by several more. I weakly raised my head, and my bloodshot eyes nearly fell out of my head when I saw none other than Draco Malfoy outside my window, floating precariously on a broomstick while tapping on my window. I didn't know if I should scream or cry in relief, but I ended up just gaping blankly at him.

"_Don't just stand there gawking, let me in!"_ he called, voice muffled through the glass as he rapped on it with his knuckles. I staggered to my feet, knees locking and wavering like noodles and I struggled to shove the old, sticking window open all the way. "Stand back," I heard him say from outside in the darkness, and I stepped aside. I heard him apparently land outside the window on the roof and scraping sounds on the side of my house as he scrambled inside, dragging his broom in after him. I hurled myself at him as he stood up from the floor, and tackled him in a hug as I somehow found more tears to cry.

"Erin, I'm sorry," he whispered softly, and returned the tight embrace and buried his face in my shoulder. The hug lasted for a few moments before we awkwardly broke away once I realized he was soaking wet and shivering, and was making me wet as well. We sat down side by side on my bed, and I could hardly believe he was here next to me after being separated by Death Eater politics for three months. Draco didn't take his eyes off me, and seemed to be drinking in my presence like a man at an oasis who had been abandoned in the desert without water for a summer.

"I missed you," he simply said, and I found myself chuckling at the anticlimactic statement, although no more was really needed to be said.

"Why are you soaking wet?" I asked, grabbing one of my wrinkled blankets off my bed and wrapping it tightly around his slumped shoulders. I would have used my wand to dry him off, but the thought of touching it again made my stomach roll.

He sighed, and was clearly putting forth effort to stop shivering. "I had to fly through clouds to stay hidden," he explained. "I didn't trust myself with a Disillusionment Charm, so I got drenched. Sorry, I'm getting your bed all wet…" He tried to get up, but I pulled him back down.

"It's fine," I dismissively said, and scooted closer to him, feeling the sudden need to touch him, just to make sure he was there, and I wasn't alone. "I just…can't believe you're here, after all these months…" I trailed off, unsure of myself now.

"I got your letter," he said after a lull in the conversation. "I'm sorry I was too late. And I'm sorry about what they did to you. I don't think I'll ever forget what they did to me." He closed his eyes and shuddered involuntarily at the memory apparently, then reached out and squeezed my hand tightly.

"I did everything he asked me to," I slowly confided, as the tears on my cheeks began to dry, leaving salty tracks behind. I wiped them away furiously. "I tortured. I killed. I swore loyalty, and drank poison to prove it. And then I brewed my own antidote. All because he told me to do so." I closed my eyes, only to see the face of the woman I tortured in the darkness of my eyelids as she screamed in pain and madness. I opened them instantly, finding the world I was living in no better than my nightmare. "I'm a monster."

"No more of one than I am," Draco quietly said, turning my hand over and stroking my palm with his thumb. "It'll be all right. Somehow, things will turn out." His voice sounded dead, like he no longer believed in what he had been saying ever since he could talk. I took comfort in it all the same.

We were silent for a while, until I heard creaking in the hallway as my sister walked by my door. I instantly crooked my fingers, my wand jumped to my hand and I turned the light out with a flick of it, Draco falling silent immediately when I pressed the forefinger of my left hand over his lips in the darkness. Elisabeth's footsteps paused outside my door for a moment, before continuing down the hallway. I barely trusted myself to breathe, and we were quiet for a long time. There was no light, my family's estate was so isolated in the northern English countryside that we had absolutely no neighbors, wizard or Muggle, for miles.

Draco's thigh was pressed against mine. He was shaking with the cold. At least I thought it was the cold. Before I realized what I was doing, I had put my arm around him and pulled his head to my shoulder.

"Erin," he stammered, "I feel so alone. I'm afraid to talk to anyone. I feel like everyone's watching me. I'm afraid everyone is going to ask me what I'm studying, and why, and under whose orders. I've only seen you once in three months, and there's no one else I can talk to."

I patted his back. "I know, Draco. I've wanted to talk to you, too, but I've been so afraid. I don't know how to be a Death Eater. I'm afraid of dying and never seeing you again."

"I'm afraid too," Draco said, squeezing my hand and wrapping me tightly in his arms as we leaned back and curled up on my bed. I rested my head on his chest, wrapped my arms around his middle, and listened to the comforting sound of his heartbeat and breathing while he stroked my back until I fell asleep.

* * *

_Don't Review. DON'T. Unless you are my wifey. :P_


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: Hi wifey! (You know who you are…haha) To my readers—Sorry, I generally don't have time to read answer reviews due to my studies, but if you like my story feel free to add me to your alerts or favorites, and know that it is sincerely appreciated. _

Chapter 2

When I woke up, Draco was gone.

I put out my hand to the empty space where he had slept beside me. The sheet was cold, but the soft smell of him on the pillow and the impression where his head had rested remained.

The blinds were closed and it was dark in my bedroom. I looked at the time. Seven o'clock. I guessed Draco didn't want my younger sister to barge in on us and had gone back home. My hand stole to my cheek, as if my skin held the recollection of where his lips had kissed me goodbye, even if I could not remember.

For a while, I lay burrowed deep in the covers, thinking about Draco, thinking about the feel of him beside me, the emotions we both had allowed to come flooding out last night. It took no more than the faintest thought of night to awaken my horrifying memories of my initiation, and I bit my lips to keep from crying and screaming. I made a point to not look at my bare wrist as I dressed.

I slipped out of bed, and pulled on a pair of thick socks to keep my feet warm and my trainers. Draco had forgotten his sweater, which he had pulled off because it was sopping wet, and it was dry now; lying, in a heap where he had tossed it last night. I held it to my face, breathing in the scent of him. Then I put it on, way too big and baggy, and found some jeans, pocketed my wand, then headed downstairs to the kitchen.

I was wary the moment I heard voices coming from the kitchen. Normally, I was the first to rise and took breakfast alone, and was gone exploring the grounds of our estate long before the rest of my family awoke. I recognized my mother's soprano before I could understand her words, and carefully and slowly pushed open the door.

"Good morning, darling!" Mum exclaimed, rising to her feet and sweeping across the tiled floor to kiss my cheek. "We have visitors," she stage-whispered in my ear.

"Do you remember your Aunt Bellatrix, from your childhood? She's here to teach you magic for the rest of the summer. Isn't that wonderful?"

"Please, Isolde, call me Bella," the Death Eater and murderer said, her voice almost sing-song and unnervingly pleasant.

"I remember," I coldly replied, examining my mother's girlhood friend dispassionately. She wasn't really my aunt, Mum had always insisted on me calling her that. She had changed much since she had tea parties with me when I was four. I remembered "Aunt" Bella (she wasn't really my aunt, she was just my mum's school friend) as stunningly beautiful, reminding me of a porcelain doll with her glossy black curls and delicate face. Now, her hair was unkempt and her cheeks sunken, and her eyes held a certain maniacal gleam that she had not possessed before she was sent to Azkeban, captured several years after the Dark Lord's fall. "You were at my initiation, too."

Bellatrix smiled at me, twisting a lock of gnarled hair around the tip of her wand.

"Oh my, how you've changed, Erilyn. Look how beautiful you have become," she murmured, getting up as she paced around me in a circle. I stared dully ahead. "Or do you still go by Erin?"

"My friends call me Erin," I said, adding a few degrees of ice to my tone as I met her glittering eyes.

Bellatrix laughed loudly. "And I can see that your temper has changed none at all! I always knew you'd make a great witch, even back then, you know. I'm proud of the job you did on that Mudblood." My stomach rolled as the woman's screaming echoed within my skull. She obviously expected me to say something, so I shrugged and obliged.

"What can I say," I said flatly. "I was following orders."

There was a pause as Bellatrix drew close to me, and spoke very softly. "The Dark Lord would like it very much if we were to become friends, Erilyn."

I lifted my face to her, feeling numb. "Has the Dark Lord ordered it, then?"

The smile on her face dimmed at bit at those words. "No. He hasn't," Bellatrix snapped, sounding distantly angry. My mother showed us to the drawing room, seemingly oblivious of our exchange, where she began my vigorous lessons in dueling and Dark Magic, which would last for the rest of the summer. I was afraid of my studies, and did my best to slow my progression until Bellatrix caught on to my delays, and threatened to tell the Dark Lord unless I worked twice as hard. I tripled my efforts out of sheer terror, and buried myself in my books with a possessed fury that I had only seen in the likes of Hermione Granger.

To my delight, I was finally able to convince my mother that my studies of the Dark Arts were so consuming that I could no longer attend her arranged dates and visits with Blaise Zabini, and enjoyed solitude for the rest of the summer, save for my written correspondence with Draco.

The night before my return to Hogwarts, Bellatrix suddenly dropped by late in the evening, looking rather pleased with herself as she pulled me aside from one of my mother's many Ministry-snobbery dinner parties into my late father's study. It was one room in the house that had remained undisturbed since the end of the First War, and my birth.

"The Dark Lord is very pleased with your progress," Bellatrix excitedly whispered to me, closing the mahogany door to the dimly lit library. "He has sent me to tell you that you are going to be placed on a very, very important mission, one that he could trust to no one else."

I said nothing. I was confused, I was going to be trapped in Hogwarts until Christmas, what could he possibly expect me to do?

"The Dark Lord has devised, with the help of others, a plan to enter Hogwarts!" she squealed, grinning insanely as she laughed.

"I still don't see how this concerns me."

"Of course you don't, you silly girl, I haven't told you yet," Bellatrix snapped impatiently. "The Malfoy boy was assigned the task of finding a way to kill Dumbledore at the beginning of the summer. He's managed to smuggle a Vanishing Cabinet inside the castle, and we possess its twin. You and the Malfoy boy are going to work together to repair it, so we can enter the castle and help you both to kill the old fool."

I felt like I had been plunged into an ice bath. I had to think of something, I couldn't imagine turning Death Eaters loose into the castle, allowing them to kill hundreds of children, and what would happen to Draco and I…there had to be another way. "That seems unnecessarily complicated, doesn't it?" I lightly asked, and Bellatrix stopped laughing gleefully and raised an eyebrow at me.

"Oh? And you've got a better idea, have you?"

"I…" I gulped. "Well, maybe. I mean, my orders are to help Draco to kill Dumbledore, aren't they?" Bellatrix nodded, licking her lips eagerly. "There are hundreds of ways to kill someone, I mean, you've been teaching me all summer. I don't see why we have to spend months fixing the Vanishing Cabinet when we could just get the job done ourselves, without your help and all. It's fine as long as we get the job done, right?"

I stopped talking, realizing I was babbling now. Bellatrix was turning the idea over in her head slowly as she paced around the room. Anything to keep me from having to see Dumbledore at the end of Draco's wand.

"I don't really care, as long as Dumbledore is dead by the end of the school year," Bellatrix viciously said, smiling wickedly at me. "You may be clever, my dear, but I can't see two teenagers killing the greatest wizard of our time without our help. I'll tell you what. I will tell the Dark Lord of your little plan, and say we agreed that you have until spring to do it your way. If the snow melts and Dumbledore isn't dead, you're fixing that cabinet and Draco will kill Dumbledore _my_ way."

Bellatrix held out a hand to me. "Have we a deal?"

I hesitated for a moment. "Why me?" I asked curiously. "Why did the Dark Lord pick me to help Draco?"

Bellatrix shrugged flippantly. "He did mention it. He told me to tell you that this was your reward, for being so diligent this summer in your studies."

"Reward…" I mused as I shook Bella's hand to close our deal, and she ranted about how much of an honor this mission was, to entrust such a tremendous task that would be remembered for decades if we succeeded. The Dark Lord had read my mind with his spells. He knew that killing was no reward to me, he knew everything about me. Then it hit me with a wave of revulsion. The Dark Lord was rewarding me for my faithfulness by placing me close to Draco, and controlling me at the same time. I could imagine his grotesque smile as he gave me the only thing I ever wanted and used me at the same time through my fear of having it taken away.

"And Draco?" I asked, interrupting Bellatrix midsentence. "He knows all of this?"

Bellatrix looked at me like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Of course he does, stupid girl. And I will inform him of our little deal before the night is over. Now, go enjoy your mother's party."

The study's door opened behind me by itself, and I slowly backed out, only I didn't return to the party. I slunk up the curved stairs in the foyer of my house, ignoring Blaise calling after me. I locked myself in my bedroom and sat at my window, wishing Draco would come on his broomstick and rescue me from this nightmare.

I woke up groggily the next morning at dawn, having fallen asleep on my windowsill last night. The air in my bedroom was cool and crisp, and flooded with the fresh pink and gray sunrise. The white lace curtains surrounding my windows fluttered in the light wind from the window I had left open last night, brushing against my bare arms. As the sun rose, basking the oak furniture and light green walls of my room in light, I miserably sat there, watching the painting on my wall of a still pond laden with water lilies and slowly paddling ducks.

In contrast to the beautiful day, I dressed in jeans and a black sweatshirt, then busied myself packing for Hogwarts. I should probably say "packing," since I really just waved my wand around and made all my schoolbooks and clothes fly into my trunk in a disorganized heap before slamming it shut and stalking off downstairs.

The journey to London was uneventful, as usual, full of lots of long, awkward silences between Richard and I, and my mum and Elisabeth's constant chatter. We Apparated near King's Cross in a deserted alley, and I was forced to actually drag my trunk through the station to the gateway. Richard and I pretended to be very interested in his watch while we speed-walked through the barrier, followed closely by the rest of our family. I breathed in relief to be out of the Muggle world and back in my own element. There was chaos around us with first years saying tearful good-byes to their parents and other students hanging out the windows to call to their friends as the Hogwarts Express whistled a warning and began chugging smoke from its engine into the threatening gray sky.

"Good-bye!" Mum called to me, waving her thin, gloved hand in the air.

"Have a good year," Richard said quietly after he easily set my heavy trunk up on the train beside me. He shook hands gruffly with me for a second before stepping back. "We all have faith in you."

I felt goosebumps on my arms that had nothing to do with the impending rain shower. About a second later the carriage doors magically slammed shut on the train and we began to slowly move. My waving family began to shrink in the distance as I watched, then disappeared entirely as the train snaked around a corner.

I dragged my trunk down the thin corridor as other students jostled around me, searching for their friends, eagerly smiling and babbling loudly. Where I walked I noticed smiles fell a little, and people moved out of my way while giving me _looks_ over their shoulders. You know the kind of _look_ if you've ever attended school. Meanwhile, London blended into suburbs, and gave way to overcast countryside.

"Hi, Harry!" someone called from behind me as I began to muscle the door to the next carriage open. I glanced over my shoulder to see Neville Longbottom and Luna Lovegood greet the famous Boy Who Lived, smiling happily and welcoming him inside their compartment, offering sweets. I felt a twinge of jealousy, then the familiar pang of irritation and hatred toward Harry Potter and his perfect life.

Luna spotted me over Harry's shoulder as he entered their compartment, and gave me her odd, vacant smile before bouncing inside her compartment and shutting the door. Last year we had been partners in Advanced Ancient Runes last year after Pansy dropped the class. She was the only person in the entire class who would speak to me, the only Slytherin. Luna may be weird, but it was better than sitting there with everyone glaring at you, thinking about how much you hate your life.

"Erin!"

I jumped a little, startled, and turned around to see Gregory Goyle leaning out of the compartment I had just passed, grinning at me as he stepped into the corridor.

"Well, are you going to just stand there or come sit with us?" Pansy Parkinson called, standing on tiptoe to wave at me over Goyle's shoulder.

With a great deal of heaving and panting, I managed to kick my trunk behind me and drag it back through a knot of people looking for the food trolley and shove it into the compartment.

Inside, a smaller group of sixth year Slytherins lounged, all of them nodding respectfully to me. Goyle helped me heft my trunk on to the rack above the seats, and I climbed across Blaise's knees to sit across from Draco, who regarded me with his calculated, trademark Slytherin smirk. Goyle took the seat beside him, and I sighed in relief when Pansy sat between me and Blaise the moment he tried to lean across the seat between us to talk to me. She was smiling wickedly, looking rather pleased with herself.

"Where is everybody else?" I asked, making sure my voice was low and cold, which was nearly effortless by now.

"Oh, the girls are in their own compartment," Pansy carelessly informed me. "I'm sure Nott and Crabbe found them by now. How was your summer, Erin?"

"Great," I lied, turning my face to stare pointedly out the window and pulled the hood of my sweatshirt up over my head from inside my coat, curling into myself as I feigned sleep in order to discourage Blaise as he leaned across Pansy, who made disgruntled noises at him. Before closing my eyes, I glanced up to see Draco still smirking at me, only his gray eyes were sparkling in amusement. I rolled my own eyes and closed them tightly, pressing my forehead against the cool, damp window. Although I feigned sleep rather well, I could not manage to fall into it, as my mind kept drifting subconsciously back to my initiation, and I would be jerked from whatever semblance of dozing with a start. In all honesty, I had not slept an entire night since I slept with Malfoy.

Blaise and Draco played wizard's chess on a portable set while they argued intensely about a Quidditch team, and I tried to keep myself from retching as Pansy fawned over Draco, who while he did nothing to encourage her advances, he didn't do anything to put a stop to them either. I felt a frown that I couldn't get rid of creasing my brow, and decided to "wake up", unable to take listening to my friend gush endlessly about her summer to him.

"Wow, that's _so_ interesting," I sarcastically said, cutting Pansy off in the middle of a sentence a few minutes later, drawing sniggers from the three boys. Pansy scowled at me, but I was sure there were no hard feelings. We were Slytherin girls, after all, and we were no strangers to competition.

We all fell silent abruptly as the compartment door slid open and a mortified looking third year girl with two brown braids stepped over the threshold of our compartment. She as a Gryffindor from the gold and red of her tie and the detailing on her robe.

"What d'you want?" Draco snapped, standing up with a menacing expression. The young witch gave a tiny squeak, and from her terrified expression recognized us as Malfoy and his 'gang.'

"Professor…Professor Slughorn asked me to give this to Blaise Zabini," she said in a small voice, holding out a roll of parchment. The mentioned stood up and snatched it away before Malfoy could take it, unrolling the message and reading it. I stood up to peer over his shoulder, and read that it was an invitation to join the Professor in Compartment C for tea. Meanwhile the girl crept away as quietly as she could.

"What is it?" Pansy asked curiously, craning her neck to try and see over mine and Malfoy's shoulders, elbowing me.

"It's an invitation," Blaise answered, and I retreated to my seat as Pansy snatched it from him.

"Slughorn? Who's that?" asked Pansy.

"Probably the new Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor," said Draco dismissively, and began to sit back down. "You can go."

Blaise's knuckles whitened as he gripped the handle of the compartment door hard as his nostrils flared in anger.

"I don't _need_ your _permission_," he spat before stalking away. The others brushed his reaction off, and I took his spot in the wizard's chess game, irritation rising by the second once Pansy started playing with Malfoy's hair. My mind wandered however hard I tried to focus on the game, and I watched the fat, gray sheep chewing on grass outside the windows covered with condensation for fear that I would start shooting off hexes if I looked straight ahead I was that jealous. I lost that game rather badly and went back to feigning sleep. Shockingly, I finally did fall asleep after pretending for so long.

"ARGH!" I woke up with a yell as there was a scuffle and a bang at the door of the compartment, and I fell out of my seat in the ruckus as someone's sneaker collided with my head. Ruckus ensued as I yelped in pain.

"Geroff me!" Goyle howled at the door, and what I could see through the lights twinkling over my vision was a smoky, inky darkness. My head pounded as blood rushed to it.

"Erin, are you okay?" I felt myself being hauled up back into my seat by the armpits and my vision cleared partly to allow me to see Draco hovering over me and trying to open my eyes with his fingers, checking to see that I hadn't been knocked out cold or gotten a concussion.

"I'm fine," I mumbled, rubbing the bruise on the back of my head. Everything still sounded funny, like I was listening to the conversation from underwater. Zabini and Goyle were still snarling at each other, apparently the compartment door had jammed and then had jerked open and thrust Zabini on top of Goyle, meanwhile some first year dropped some of that awful Peruvian Darkness Powder that those blood traitor Weasley twins manufactured in their joke shop, and somehow I had been kicked in the head during the chaos.

"Stupid first years," Draco muttered under his breath, pulling out his wand and swirling it through the air as everyone coughed.

I slumped in my seat, feeling dizzy still. Eventually, everyone settled back in their seats, and the argument passed. Closing my eyes helped a bit, since I could no longer see the room spinning.

"What did Slughorn want?" I heard Draco ask.

"Just trying to make well-connected people," Blaise replied. He listed off other people who had been invited. Many of them were kids whose parents were high up in the Ministry of Magic, or were otherwise notable, such as Harry Potter and a few of his friends. I ignored the rest of the conversation and concentrated on not puking.

"What d'you mean, you might not be at Hogwarts next year?" Pansy blurted out, louder than before, drawing my attention back to the conversation. I opened my eyes, head feeling slightly better now. Beside me, Blaise was still glaring at Goyle.

"I might have moved on to bigger and better things."

I caught Draco's eyes and narrowed my own, sending him a clear warning message. I wouldn't have him blowing our cover, or telling his little friends or Pansy if she batted her eyelashes at him. Showing off for her would get us nowhere. Giving other students the suspicion could work in our favor, if people became afraid of us they were more likely to leave us alone and not ask what we were up to. When he winked at me quickly, I smiled, knowing that this was probably what he had in mind, and I was far too relieved that he wasn't simply showing off for Pansy.

None of the others looked like they had an inkling of what he was hinting at yet.

"Mother wants me to complete my education, but personally, I don't think it's very important these days. When the Dark Lord takes over, is he going to care about what grades you got? Of course not, he'll only think about the kind of service he's received and the level of devotion he was shown."

"And you think you'll be able to do something for him?" Zabini asked, sounding mocking and yet uncomfortable at the same time. "Sixteen and not even fully qualified yet?"

Now Draco grinned across the compartment at me, drawing me into it. He was a better actor than I was, and I forced myself to smirk. The only way I knew he was acting was he had told me truthfully how he felt about this before, and I knew I would have to take a leaf out of his book if I was to survive. "I've just said, haven't I?" he said. "Maybe he doesn't care if I'm qualified. Maybe the job he wants me to do isn't something you need to be qualified for."

I glanced back around the compartment as Draco looked triumphant. Goyle and Crabbe were gawking at their friend, and Pansy was looking at Draco as if he were a god. Blaise looked rather sullen (as usual), and was trying to catch my eye (also as usual). I pointedly ignored him, and breathed a sigh of relief when Pansy grabbed my arm and we departed for the bathroom to change into our uniforms.

It was chaotic as usual, with crowds of girls jockeying for the mirror and applying make-up at the last minute and pulling at their itchy wool skirts. Many of them were using their wands to magically shorten them, including Pansy. I changed in an efficient manner, and fixed my hair into two copper braids while I was waiting for Pansy. They hung softly in front of my shoulders, the exact opposite of my friend's sharp black bob. I used to like Pansy's hair when it was long and shiny, because it looked like velvet, but she had cut it last year in hopes of catching Draco's attention. Gag.

"Ready?" I asked, and she shook her head at me, then pointed her wand at my skirt, shortening it about two or three inches. "Hey!"

"Erin, people will mistake you for a third year if you keep wearing your uniform like that," said Pansy, a little nastily, and then smiled at me. "Besides, if I've got to compete with someone for Draco, I'd like to at least have a challenge."

I scowled at her, but instead of saying anything I led the way out of the bathroom, shoving a Huffelpuff girl roughly out of our way. The train slid to a halt a few minutes after we returned to our carriage, and Goyle and Crabbe muscled their way through some second years outside the compartment door, eager to get to dinner. I gathered my things, and shoved them inside my trunk, and jumped when Draco touched me on the arm.

"Are you sure you're all right?" he asked me quietly, helping shove my sweater inside. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Pansy and Blaise waiting at the compartment door for us, looking impatient. "Maybe you should go see Madam Pomferoy, or I could look at it later."

"I'll be fine," I reassured him flatly. I would much rather have him look at my head later than go to the school nurse, on the off chance that she might look at my wrist. Besides, my friend had an uncanny knack for healing, which I never ceased to find ironic, given his pre-destiny as a Death Eater. "Shall we?"

"You three go on ahead, I'll catch up," said Draco, staying put, eyeing the golden racks holding our trunks above our heads. "Save me a seat."

"All right," said pansy uneasily, and we linked arms as we walked down the train, glancing over our shoulders, wondering what was going on. I had a bad feeling about it, whatever it was.

As we approached the carriages, I stopped cold in my tracks as fear gathered in my heart. The horseless carriages were no longer horseless.

"What—what are those…things?" I whispered in horror as my friends turned back, calling to me.

"Erin, what are you talking about?" called Blaise, sounding annoyed. "There's nothing there?"

_No, there's something there all right._ I shivered uncontrollably, and stared into the open sockets of the horse's skull. In between the straps there was a creature straight out of nightmares: a horse that was really more of a skeleton. It had leathery wings that rested flat against its back, and the same black leathery flesh covered the frightening creature in various places.

Ignoring my fear, I inched around the beast that no one else could see, wondering if I had lost it, and climbed inside the carriage, which took off immediately. Crabbe and Goyle were also inside, along with Millicent Bulstrode.

"So, what d'you suppose Malfoy was talking about back there?" Blaise quietly asked Pansy, who leaned forward next to me, looking warily at me. I kept my attention fixed on the grounds passing us, allowing a small Slytherin smirk to light up my face. Night had fallen outside, and the dirt road leading through the woods to Hogwarts was lit by glowing fairies inside glass jars on the sides of the road. It was haunting and cold outside, but I felt warm under the hairy blanket I shared with Pansy.

Pansy whispered, "D'you think he's a Death Eater?"

Blaise shrugged. "If anyone was a Death Eater, I'd've guessed…" He stopped himself, and I ignored the feeling of eyes on the back of my head. "Well, let's just say someone _else_ first."

The carriage ride couldn't have ended sooner, and we ran quickly inside to escape Peeves, who was dropping water balloons on the heads of students as they entered. The Great Hall was magnificent as usual, with a colossal number of candles floating midair above our heads, casting a ghostly light on us as we sat on the wooden benches at Slytherin House's table. The candlelight made the actual ghosts of Hogwarts look opaque and girls' jewelry glitter, flashing as they moved.

I sipped my pumpkin juice through pursed lips, trying not to reach over and box Blaise's ears as he toyed with one of my braids. I had saved a seat on my other side for Draco, in hopes that he would rescue me, or at least be there for me to roll my eyes to. Blaise twirled my hair through his fingers with a smile curving his haughty features.

"Looks like Potter's gone and heroically injured himself again," Malfoy loudly sneered as he swung his legs over the bench, sitting down beside me. Across the table from me, Pansy giggled. I hid a smile behind my hand as Malfoy shot Zabini one of the dirtiest looks I had ever seen, and he dropped my braid like it was a hot coal.

"What is it this time?" exclaimed an eager Pansy, craning her neck over the crowds of students to see. "Oh, look, he's gotten his nose broken!"

The Sorting began abruptly, and I found my attention wandering as it sang about uniting between the Houses against evil outside the castle walls. My mind wandered back to the Muggle woman I had tortured, and the sound of her hysterical screams was on replay in my mind. A burst of applause around me drew me back to the present for a moment, and I realized where I was, and joined in with my friends in congratulating the newest addition to Slytherin. As the Sorting wore on, Blaise's attention wandered back to flirting pointlessly with me, and I searched for Draco's foot under the table to step on, wishing he would glare at him again and put a stop to it. A glassy look had come over my friend's face as he stared into space, and I knew exactly what he was thinking about.

I hadn't even noticed the Sorting had stopped, and was quickly distracted when the gold plates filled with a huge variety of food and the student body promptly began stuffing their faces, the clatter of silverware on plates and chatter filling the hall. Luckily, treacle tart trumped flirting (I could only wonder why Blaise he hadn't given up yet, other than my family being rich) and I scooted as far away from Blaise as possible in the meantime, despite Pansy obviously disapproving of me being close to Malfoy.

"Snape's teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts this year?" she curiously asked us, a tiny frown creasing her brow. "Isn't that a bit odd?"

Malfoy didn't answer, and merely picked at his food, which was a little odd in itself. Normally, he dominated our conversations at dinner.

"Well, he's wanted the job for years," I answered instead. "And my stepfather told me nobody applied for it at all this year, because of rumors of the curse. I guess Snape was the only person who would take it. It's still a little strange Dumbledore would give it to him now, though, given the circumstances."

I chose my words carefully. It struck me as especially strange since Dumbledore probably knew Snape was a Death Eater, and thought he was a double agent, but gave him the position regardless.

"Maybe we'll actually learn something this year," Blaise joked, and Pansy laughed.

I shook my head, hoping nothing too terrible happened to the professor this year. Dinner was relatively quiet since Draco was silent, and the rest of us were starving from the long train ride. Pansy kept trying to make conversation, but ended up just telling us stories about her summer vacation in Germany while we ate. I was relieved when dinner ended and the hall fell silent as Dumbledore rose to make his speech.

"Well, now that we are all digesting another magnificent feast, I beg a few moments of your attention for the usual start-of-term speech," Dumbledore said pleasantly. "First years ought to note that the Forbidden Forest is out of bounds to students, and a few of our older students ought to note this as well." His blue eyes flicked momentarily over to the Golden Trio at the Gryffindor table, who smirked at each other.

"The caretaker has asked me, for what he tells me is the four hundred and twenty-third time, to remind you all that magic is not permitted in the corridors between classes, nor are a number of other things, all of which can be checked on the extensive list now found on Mr. Filch's office door."

Dumbledore paused for a few seconds to ensure that silence was absolute before continuing. "Now, as everybody in this hall knows, a man commonly known as Lord Voldemort and his followers are at large and gaining in strength."

There were several gasps and one small shriek at the mention of the Dark Lord's name. The silence seemed to strain as Dumbledore continued. I rested my chin on the heel of my hand and sipped pumpkin juice, ignoring the few glances directed at me. Beside me, Draco levitated his silver fork with his wand, as if paying attention to Dumbledore's speech was a waste of his time.

"I cannot emphasize strongly enough how dangerous the present situation is, and how much care each of us at Hogwarts must take to make sure we remain safe. The castle's magical fortifications have been strengthened over the summer, and we are protected in new and more powerful ways, but we still must guard against carelessness on the part of any student or member of staff.

"I urge you to abide by any security restrictions that your teachers and prefects might impose on you, however irksome you may find them, in particular the rule that you are not to be out of bed after hours. I implore you, should you notice anything strange or suspicious within or outside the castle, to report it to a member of staff immediately. I trust you to conduct yourselves, as always, with the utmost regard for your own and others' safety."

His blue eyes swept over the students for a long moment before he smiled once again.

"But now, warm beds await you, and let us say good night. Pip pip!"

"Thank Merlin that's over," said Draco, getting up immediately. I scrambled after him as the usual deafening scraping filled the hall as students began to flow out of the Great Hall to their dormitories. This year, he had been 'relieved' of his prefect duties, and took my arm, quickly weaving through the crowd and through a hidden passage.

"Draco! What are you doing?" I asked as he jogged up a steep, spiraling staircase, and paused, shushing me.

"I think we've lost them," he whispered, obviously referring to Blaise and Pansy, and pushed on a brick in the wall with his wand. It slid in, and a small section of the wall followed. "Come on."

Crouching low, I crawled out the small door and stood up in a corridor I recognized on the seventh floor. There was a rather ugly tapestry around the corner of Barnabas the Barmy trying to teach trolls ballet.

"Draco, what's going on?" I asked loudly as he walked quickly down the corridor and stopped in front of a blank wall in front of the tapestry. I jogged after him.

"Keep your voice down. I need to show you something." I tried to protest but stopped when he frowned at me, and wrapped an arm around my waist and started pacing down the hallway casually. A few Gryffindors passed us after coming around the corner, looking very suspicious. On our third trip down the hallway, with several more glares from passing Gryffindors (their common room must be somewhere nearby), I was rather irritated.

"Okay, nothing is happening. Can I go to bed now?" I whined, and suddenly he stopped.

"And that's where you're wrong," he said, and walked forward to jiggle the handle of a door that had definitely not been there before. "Get inside, quick."

I felt distinctly uneasy as I went inside, and blinked, not believing my eyes at what I saw. The room was huge, the size of a large cathedral, with large windows letting false sunlight filter in. It looked like a city with towering walls, full of thousands of objects.

There was a great deal of broken and damaged furniture, thousands upon thousands of books, chipped bottles of potions, hats, jewels, cloaks, what looked like dragon eggshells, and several rusting swords. I stepped further inside, looking down the disorganized rows of stacked stuff. I saw what looked like dragon eggshells, a heavy, bloodstained axe, and an enormous stuffed troll, which were the more notable of things hidden away in the piles of junk.

"What is this place?" I asked, turning around to see Draco.

"It's called the Room of Requirement," he said, almost sadly. "I found it when I was searching for somewhere to hide this initially…" He picked up a Fanged Frisbee, and toyed with it momentarily before tossing it away. "And thought to use it this year, for what we're going to have to do."

_Kill Dumbledore,_ I added silently, not wanting to say it aloud. I followed him deeper into the maze of piles of junk hidden by generations of Hogwarts inhabitants, and he stopped at what looked like a large wardrobe covered with a dusty, black blanket. In a great cloud of dust, Draco whipped it off, revealing a huge, dark closet.

I stepped forward and opened the door quietly, hearing the unoiled screws squeak. "Is this…" I turned, questioning with my eyes.

"The Vanishing Cabinet," he confirmed. "I'm sure you were told about it, and how it was smuggled into the school during the summer."

He went on to tell me the details of Bellatrix's plan to use if all else failed, to repair the Vanishing Cabinet and use it to sneak Death Eaters into the castle to aid Draco on his assault on Dumbledore. I had already heard most of it, but listened politely. He sat down on an armchair that looked like a large bite had been taken out of the back, and rested his head in his hands.

"I can't do this, Erin," he said, voice cracking. "I don't want to. I'm only sixteen. I can't kill Dumbledore. I don't think I could kill _anyone_."

"You don't have to," I said, mind working as I toyed with a corked bottle whose contents shimmered evilly. I thought distantly back to my summer lessons with Bellatrix. "There's dozens of other ways to get the job done. Poison, curses…Bellatrix told me that she would give us until spring to do this my way, and then we'll start fixing the Cabinet."

I stood up and regarded the dark wardrobe, forcing myself to think logical and cold about this situation. "Where does it lead to?"

"Knockturn Alley," Draco answered, voice still angst-twisted. I scowled at the device, and tapped it with my wand in a few places. It was thoroughly broken, but I had always been good at Charms and realized with a degree of confidence that together, we could repair it. I heard an odd snuffling noise behind me, and turned around to face my friend, who had collapsed into an armchair that looked like someone had bitten a chunk out of it, and had his head in his hands, shoulders shaking with grief.

I felt sickened with myself.

The Dark Lord gave me the one thing I wanted in placing me close to Malfoy, who was the one person other than myself that I loved. I felt filthy, disgusted with myself as I approached him and balanced on the arm of the chair, wrapping my arms tenderly around his shoulders, whispering comforting nothings into his ear.

"It's all right," I whispered into his hair. "Everything will turn out. You'll see."

I felt cold next to his warm skin, and I promised myself one thing as he turned and wrapped his arms around me, burying his face in my shoulder.

"We'll always be together, no matter what it takes."


	3. Chapter 3

Title: Undisclosed Desires

Chapter: 3

Disclaimer: don't own, don't steal, don't read or flame if don't like.

Quick Note: About the 6th year Slytherin girls: I decided to only have three, since the only canon 6th year girls are Millicent and Pansy, and I really don't like making a slew of one-dimensional, three scene OC's just to fill space. I thought it was logical enough that there wouldn't be exactly five girls in every single year, in every single house. In any case, ignore me, I'm just being fussy. Also, I recently upgraded to Word 2007, so please excuse any formatting issues and changes, since I'm still getting used to it.

I opened my eyes with a start as I forced myself to climb out of my nightmares to the real world, the familiar sight of my green and silver bed curtains greeting me. My hands had woven themselves into fists around knots of my sheets, which were sweat drenched. Gasping for air, I flung the curtains aside to see that the two other girls in my year's dormitory were still sleeping. I was relieved that I had evidently not been screaming, which would have shown weakness and brought about uncomfortable questions.

I showered as quickly as possible, jumping when my fingers brushed my prickling Dark Mark on my wrist. I stared at it for a long time, watching shampoo drip down my arm in rivulets, then was distracted by a hammering on the door.

"Just a minute!"

For once I was grateful for our long sleeved uniform, even though it was hot outside. I waited for Pansy and Millicent to get ready, listening to them discuss classes and their O.W.L. grades. I had gotten only two O's in Arithmancy and Charms, E's in Defense Against the Dark Arts (fancy that) and Potions, A's in Transfiguration and Runes, and outright failed three other classes. I winced in anticipation of Snape's discerning gaze at my O.W.L.s, which I stared at rather miserably, propped up against my juice goblet as I munched on toast.

"Why the long face?" I jumped as Draco sat down on the bench beside me, joined by Goyle and Nott across the table. I sighed heavily.

"Failed two exams. You?"

"Just got a Dreadful in History of Magic, but no surprise there. Did you hear Crabbe actually got a Troll? I thought you'd have to attack the administrator to do that bad…"

I laughed tonelessly, and passed my grades to Professor Snape as he made his rounds. The corners of his mouth turned down as his eyes scanned further and further down the paper as the grades got worse and worse. I peeked over Draco and Theodore's shoulders at their grades while Snape appeared deep in thought over my schedule. They both had gotten mostly 'Exceeds Expectations', with a few 'Acceptables'.

"Outstanding in Potions, quite impressive," Snape mused. "I'm also very pleased with your Arithmancy and Charms grades, and I will allow you to take Advanced Defense Against the Dark Arts in hopes that you will actually complete your homework this year, however lax you have proven previously…"

I blushed a bit, although I thought enrolling in an Advanced Defense Against the Dark Arts class was a little ironic, given my situation. "Thank you, Professor."

"You are probably not surprised that History of Magic and Herbology are simply out of the question.

I nodded, thinking of the little 'D' next to them both. Not like I had really wanted to take those anyways.

"Apply yourself this year, Miss Cromwell," he coldly drawled, and I groaned. He tapped a piece of paper with his wand, and the details of my new schedule spilled across the page in shining black ink. "Learning what you can from Hogwarts matters more than you think it does. All right, Mr. Malfoy, let's see what you've got."

"Yes, Professor," I answered sullenly, and stared down at the paper as Nott and Malfoy proudly presented their grades, and Goyle tried to make himself inconspicuous looking, which was rather funny, given his large, beefy size. I had anticipated most of my classes except Transfiguration, and my mood became quite a bit gloomier when I realized that my first day of school would start with two hours in the Potions dungeon without Professor Snape, who was easily my favorite teacher. Draco also had that class, and we walked there together as fast as we could.

"Bloody hell, what am I supposed to do in Advanced Transfiguration?" I ranted sourly as we scrambled with the other students to get seats next to their friends. Even though we ended up partners, we got stuck sitting in front of Potter and Granger.

"Ask _Blaaaaaaise_," he sarcastically suggested, leaning forward and fluttering his eyelashes in a grotesque imitation of me. I stuck out my tongue at him.

"Fine then, go ask _Pansy _to tutor you in Charms this year," I shot back, and the look that comes across most student's faces when the Bloody Baron passes them came across his. I failed at trying not to smile when he flicked my nose in revenge.

The class grew silent as Professor Slughorn began teaching, and put us to brewing a Draught of Living Death, with the best potion winning a small vial of Felix Felicis. I dropped my books when I heard what potion we would be brewing, and concentrated on not passing out as Slughorn opened the ingredients cupboard and told us the page number.

"Are you all right? You look a bit…" Draco muttered, trailing off.

"Pale," Nott supplied, also turning around to investigate me. "Seen a ghost?"

"No, I'm fine," I snapped angrily, cursing myself for being so obvious. I flipped furiously through the pages of my textbook. It was just a stupid potion, it's not like I had to drink it again. There's no logical reason why it should bother me so much. I stomped off to gather scales and ingredients, but when I came back Draco was still tilting his head slightly to one side as if asking me.

I shook my head stiffly, lips pressed together. "Not now," I hissed through gritted teeth, warily glancing over my shoulder at the Gryffindors behind us. Potter was trying to decipher his used copy of the textbook, which someone had scribbled all over, and Granger glanced up at me darkly through her frizzy hair while trying to cut her sopophorous beans. Draco nodded, and seemed to resign himself for the moment to minding his own business. I forced myself to make the potion mechanically, working as fast as I could to simply get it over with. Crabbe's cauldron turned into a volcano and nearly killed us all a few feet away when it exploded, and beside me Draco's was nowhere close to the correct color and boiling dangerously over the edge despite his last-ditch attempts to win the lucky potion. Mine was passable for how little effort I gave, and I prayed the class would be over soon. Professor Snape would have been livid to see how little I tried, since he had a knack for noticing when I did not put forth full effort in the only subject I actually cared for. I cared little for luck, since I doubted a golden potion would save me now.

"Stop working!" Slughorn cheerfully called over the cloud of smoke that hung over our heads. He made his way through our potions, inspecting each one carefully. He cringed a bit while passing Crabbe's, made no comment on Draco's, and I received a curt little nod. "Why, this is simply marvelous!"

The entire class turned around to gawk at a sheepish looking Harry Potter, with a collective groan from the Slytherins. I did my best to look cold and disinterested, even though I was baffled since Potter had always been awful at Potions whenever I had class with him, while Draco rolled his eyes. There was no mistaking it, however, Potter's potion was nothing short of perfect, and he was awarded the lucky potion. I packed as fast as possible, and then tapped my foot impatiently when Draco made me wait for him. He didn't say anything to me until we were outside in the corridor.

"What was that all about?" he whispered, grabbing my elbow and pulling me around the corner to lurk behind a statue of a rather ugly witch with a hump. The Golden Trio gave us a passing glare when they walked by, probably headed for the Gryffindor common room.

I checked my wristwatch, and told him as fast and quietly as possible the abridged version of my initiation. I disliked the way pity expressed itself on his face, and told him so when I was done, which made him smile. He wrapped an arm around my shoulders and squeezed one gently.

"I would have made your potion for you if you'd told me earlier," he offered. I snorted.

"Thanks, but no thanks. Remember what happened when you made me Pepperup Potions our second year?" I recalled, and Draco snorted with laughter.

"Hey, you said it was the nicest thing I'd ever done for you! And I worked for two hours on that potion, and failed my Transfiguration essay because of it!" Draco defended himself. "Besides, I'm loads better at healing now, I could cure your sniffles in a snap."

I rolled my eyes dramatically, and felt like I had been electrocuted where he was touching me, with his arm wrapped casually around my shoulders, smirking at me like bantering was as easy as breathing for him, while I had to keep remembering to breathe. "Like you would have done that essay anyways? You might have improved at healing, but I still haven't ever breathed through my nose the same. We'd better go; we only have a few minutes before Defense Against the Dark Arts."

We took off at a brisk pace down the corridor, ascending to the third floor, Draco taking over the conversation. "It's strange, isn't it, Snape not teaching Potions? I miss the one class where Potter and his friends weren't teacher's pets. I heard Slughorn taught Potions for a long time, and was Head of Slytherin, back when my parents when here."

"Oh?" I asked, mildly curious at the last part about Slughorn having taught Draco's parents. "I didn't know that."

"He's already picking favorites, too. Asking Zabini and other kids with powerful or famous parents for tea on the train? He's starting up the Slug Club already." I laughed at the ridiculous name. "No, seriously! That's what people call it! Dunno why he didn't ask us, though," Malfoy exclaimed, and I kept laughing as we climbed up the Grand Staircase, jumping over the vanishing step. Several Huffelpuffs dodged to one side of the stairs we were going up when they saw Malfoy and I walking together. Their eyes darted quickly away from me and they picked up their pace, but their expressions weren't full of the horror that Draco inspired in younger students. I've also got a reputation for being rather nasty, too, and they looked even uneasy to see him smiling and me laughing, and walked away as quickly as possible.

Snape's new classroom was already open when we arrived, and it looked much the same as before. Thankfully, it was quite a bit less repulsive due to the absence of the pink china displays Professor Umbridge had imposed on it last year. She and Pansy had been best friends, and I had been dragged into her Inquisitive Squad because of Pansy. I remember Pansy crying for days after Umbridge got run over by centaurs. Personally, I wasn't too fussed (like usual).

Instead, the cuddly kittens were replaced with thick forest green curtains drawn over the windows, new pictures showing people undergoing gruesome curses, their faces usually contorted in pain. Malfoy and I made no comment in regard to the pictures and took our seats, and only smirked at the students whose mouths fell agape in disgust or horror when they entered. The bell for class rang, and silence immediately fell.

"I have not asked you to take out your books," Snape severely said from the back of the classroom, clicking the door shut. The room was so quiet you could have heard a pin drop. "I wish to speak to you, and I want your fullest attention."

That was my cue to lay my head down on my arms. Professor Snape went on to describe how this class was at a much higher level than any we had ever taken before, and how we were all likely to fail. He spoke as if he really had a thing for the Dark Arts, and I zoned out completely, staring at the Cruciatus Curse picture, gone in memories.

"Has an Inferius been seen, then?" Pavarti Patil sharply interrupted Snape's speech. His black eyes darted and fixed on her unkindly. My interest peaked, and I rested my chin on my elbow.

"The Dark Lord has used Inferni in the past, which means you would be well advised to assume he

Snape shuttled off silently to the other side of the room, black robes fluttering behind him.

"You are complete novices in the use of nonverbal spells. What is the advantage of a nonverbal spell?" he asked derisively, as if not expecting anyone to know the answer. Granger's hand shot up in the air, and the entire Slythering section of the room rolled our eyes in unison. The corner of Snape's mouth twitched before he called on her.

"Your adversary has no warning about what kind of magic you're about to perform," the Mudblood recited, and I resisted the urge to hurl the textbook, which she had obviously swallowed, at her head.

Snape dismissively said, "An answer copied word for word from _The Standard Book of Spells, Grade Six_, but correct in essentials."

In the seat behind me, Malfoy couldn't help but snigger. Pansy grinned at me to my right, and I halfheartedly smiled back. Maybe this class was going to be fun after all.

Next, we divided off into pairs to practice nonverbal spells. Pansy nearly threw a tantrum when Draco asked me to be his partner, and continued to glare at me after she partnered off with Crabbe. I wondered if Draco even noticed her obvious jealousy and deathly looks at me, or if he even cared. He seemed amused enough, maybe he enjoyed watching her squirm for no apparent reason. Yes, that was probably it. One person was supposed to jinx the other without saying the incantation, and the other was supposed to repel it wordlessly, too. Many students resorted to muttering the words under their breath, and it was quite amusing to see the strained expressions on my classmates' faces as they tried to keep from bursting out the spells. Pansy actually turned purple, and Crabbe's face was screwed up in concentration to no effect.

I nervously held my wand at the ready, in the defensive position as Draco pointed his at me. His lips were pursed together tightly in an effort to keep himself from blurting out his hex, and his wand hand jerked every so often. I was relieved that the hex seemed unlikely to ever come, as I had no chance of repelling it without speaking.

Ten minutes after we began work, Granger (of course) perfectly produced a wordless jinx, and Longbottom was hit full in the face and rushed to the Hospital Wing. Snape, however, ignored Hermione entirely and awarded Gryffindor no house points, and Draco and I traded places after he claimed to be getting a headache from the effort.

I stood there, feeling rather bored and stupid with my wand pointing at my friend, and thought about Potions for a while instead, and then felt Professor Snape's eyes boring into the back of my head, as if he knew I wasn't trying. Wincing visibly, I bit my lower lip hard, and screwed up my face in concentration, focusing on casting a Stunning Spell on Draco. He was right, it was rather mind-bending work. I tried to remember what it felt like when I cast the spell verbally, to no help whatsoever, and then tried to empty my mind of all my cluttering thoughts, focusing only on my nonverbal spell, not even thinking about what a bad headache I had. I squeezed my eyes shut, and my palms were sweating from the effort.

_Stupefy! Stupefy! Stupefy!_ I mentally screamed, and nearly fell over in shock when there was a loud bang and the familiar jet of red light burst from my wand. Draco yelled in surprise, and to both our surprise when he slashed his wand through the air, the glistening silver force of a Shield Charm reflected the spell back at me. I flattened myself to the ground, dodging my own spell, and felt the hair on the back of my neck stand on end as the spell passed overhead, colliding with the wall after several other students cried out and ducked.

Snape's shoes approached my vision, and I grinned at Draco, who had also fallen over in surprise, and was holding his wand, looking rather astonished and pleased with himself.

"Well done, fifteen points to Slytherin," Snape said as I stood up and dusted my robes off, and found that I was unconsciously smiling in pride. Pansy looked murderous, and Granger looked like a saber-toothed tiger.

"How did you do that? You couldn't before," I asked Draco after he successfully got me with a silent Jelly-Legs Curse, which I failed to shield myself from. He grabbed me around the waist before I could fall down on the hard stone floor, and I wrapped an arm around his neck as my legs floundered uselessly beneath me.

"I guess I was thinking about it too much," he admitted as my legs wobbled hopelessly in a weird sort of dance. "When you managed to Stun me, I just sort of reacted, you know?"

He muttered the counter-curse and I was returned to having control over my legs, and flushed at the rather virtue-compromising position of his hands.

"Er-" I stammered, stepping away, my face feeling as hot as his looked. Luckily, we were spared a rather awkward conversation as a large bang interrupted, followed by a loud cheer from Pansy finally accomplishing her nonverbal hex. Crabbe moaned in pain on the floor, covered in unpleasant looking boils.

"I did it!" she happily shouted, jumping up and down when Snape awarded Slytherin ten points. I nearly fell over in relief that she hadn't seen Draco and I a few moments ago, and was too distracted by her own magical brilliance.

"Thanks for not using that one on me," I muttered to Draco as we tried practicing some more, switching places. He smiled oddly at me in return. Class continued, and we resumed perfecting our spells. I had a great deal more difficulty than Draco, since sometimes it worked and others it didn't, and I couldn't figure out why.

"Pathetic, Weasley," snapped Snape in his low voice nearby us, drawing his own wand from his billowing robes with an unnecessary flourish, training it on his partner, Harry Potter. "Let me show you."

A curse of some sort flew immediately from the Professor's wand, but instead of simply ducking or reflecting the spell silently, Potter yelled, "_Protego!"_

The spell was so strong it knocked the professor backward into a desk with a crash, and now the entire class was dead silent with shock, staring with open mouths in horror. When he got up, Snape was scowling.

"Do you remember me telling you we are practicing nonverbal spells, Potter?" he asked in a deadly voice.

"Yes," muttered Potter stiffly.

"Yes, _sir_," Snape corrected.

"There's no need to call me sir, Professor," replied Harry, and half the class, including myself, simultaneously gasped. The Gryffindor boys were all smirking, elbowing each other, but it was my turn to smile when Potter landed detention Saturday night.

The bell rang a while later, and the most eventful thing that happened was Theodore Nott mastered the nonverbal spell, practically killing Blaise with his hex, sending him to the hospital wing, bleeding profusely. Our Slytherin group was considerably smaller and quieter without those two as we exited the classroom, Crabbe lumbered along behind us like a large, stupid bodyguard, strong and silent, and Pansy scuttled back and forth behind Draco and I as we walked side-by-side, trying to get between us, which was rather hilarious since Draco kept moving to one side of the other to block her. Pansy kept up her awkward little dance until we reached the crowded Entrance Hall, when Draco slung his arm around my shoulders casually and pulled me close to his side, grinning at me wickedly.

Pansy's mouth worked like a goldfish out of water, and a group of fifth year Ravenclaw and Slytherin girls gasped.

"How—how dare you!" Pansy managed to cry. From the way she was looking at me, you'd think she'd just overheard me plotting to murder the Minister of Magic. But then again, being in Slytherin, she might actually take to that… "Draco! I thought-"

"Just because my mother happens to throw you at me every chance she gets doesn't mean I return your…_affections_," Draco scathingly said, and Pansy's face turned bright red as she stared blankly at us as Draco steered me out the large doors and out to the grounds. It was rather beautiful outside, I was glad to get some fresh air, which was crisply autumn, and I wished for my jacket. The sky was cloudy, but a few patches of blue poked through over the forest.

"Care to tell me what that was all about?" I asked Draco, trying not to smile as he was practically inebriated with laughter. I wriggled from under his arm, and he shoved his hands into his pockets, throwing his head back freely with laughter. I leaned against a wooden post along the dirt path away from the school, pulling my robes tightly around myself, smiling.

"She's so bloody _annoying_!" Draco nearly shouted, collapsing into more maniacal laughter, kicking a rock on the path away, hard. A group of passing Huffelpuffs on their way to Care of Magical Creatures glanced at us worriedly before picking up their pace and detouring around us. "You have no idea what it's like, having her shoved at me! She calls me _Drakie-poo_, for Merlin's sake! I feel like I'm suffocating whenever someone so much as mentions her!"

"Believe me, I think I know the feeling," I remarked, reminding him of my mother arranging dates for me with eligible pureblood wizards over the summer. "So, your mum was pushing you at her over the summer?"

"When hasn't she," he snorted, rolling his eyes. "She never shuts up about her, or about getting 'back into favor' with the families. Like that even matters any more. It's only a matter of time before the Dark Lord sees through my Occumency, and knows that I'm not really loyal. I'm just scared."

I let silence hang in the air for a while I tried to collect what I wanted to say into coherent sentences. "I don't think You-Know-Who really cares if you're loyal or scared. They're both the same to him, since he can control you with either," I explained, avoiding my friend's eyes as he looked suspiciously at me, wondering what gave me this insight into the Dark Lord's mind.

He squared his shoulders, and his expression was almost angry as he looked at me. "I did what I had to, to survive. Don't you understand that? I don't feel sorry, I _can't_ feel sorry." His eyes had grown hard in moments, as he tried to justify his own inner conflicts, that I felt too. "He would have _killed_ me, Erin, and everyone I care about. I dunno, he might have even killed you if I didn't follow his orders. I don't really care about myself anymore.

"Does that make me a terrible person?" asked Draco, looking into my dark eyes with his clear ones. Some people say that the eyes are windows to the soul. I don't know if I could see Draco's soul, but I could see his motives, laid out clear as day before me. He was like me, scared. Draco isn't a nice person, but he really _understands_ people. Maybe that's why he doesn't like them.

"It makes you human," I said, wishing he didn't look so sad and defeated. "Just like the rest of us."

Draco blinked, and looked more defeated than ever before he grinned. "Well, that's a relief," he sarcastically joked, and I smiled at him, copying the mocking smirk I had seen him wear so many times. He laughed loudly at the effect on my face.

"So, how's Quidditch looking this year?" I asked in an effort to kindly distract him from his oppressive troubles, not wanting to remind him about our mission right now, and a genuine smile split across Malfoy's face and he began to spout off too many technical terms and players from professional teams for me to keep track of. I didn't notice he had stopped until I noticed he was chuckling at my disoriented expression.

"Confused?" he asked, and I shook my head, smiling.

"Never."

"Liar," he teased, and I pinched him lightly on the arm. The bell rang faintly back at the castle, warming that break was almost over.

"Urgh, now I have Herbology," he whined with a disgusted sigh. "I heard that idiot Longbottom made it in somehow. What d'you have?"

"Arithmancy," I answered, glancing at my schedule, desperately hoping Blaise had failed that exam. "I should get going, it's on the ninth floor."

"Oh," he remarked, standing there, watching after me oddly, and I waved awkwardly to him as I started back up to the castle when he called to me. "Erin!" I turned around with a hopeful jump, heart leaping to my throat. "I'll see you at lunch, then?"

"Of—of course!" I called back, turning around and continuing to hike back up to the castle, glancing over my shoulder a few times in confusion. Something felt odd and uncomfortable about our parting, as if we should have said something to each other that we didn't, and both of us hurried off in opposite directions rather than think about it too hard, for fear of what we might discover about our own feelings.

Arithmancy was dull and hot, and for the next hour we did nothing but take frantic notes as the eccentric Professor Vector jumped from one subject to the next without warning or break. As a consequence for being late, I was stuck sitting in the seat Blaise had saved for me (he got an 'E' on his exam, unfortunately) next to Hermione Granger. She nearly fell out of her seat in joy when asked a question, and her hand actually smacked me on the side of the head with a glancing blow as it shot up near the end of class. Blaise followed me down to lunch, and I could feel the beginnings of a headache.

"Your head okay?" he askedly slyly, referring to the smack Hermione had accidentally delivered to me.

"I'll live," I snidely remarked. "I've got a bit of a writing cramp, though."

Blaise laughed heartily in agreement, hefting his bookbag on one shoulder as we walked down the long, moving staircases, jumping a vanishing step.

"Say, I heard Pansy crying during break over something to do with her Drakie-poo and you. What happened this time?" he asked, trying to make a joke out of it, but I could hear the accusation in his voice. I kept my tone light.

"Nothing, really. She was being annoying, and Draco told her to shove off."

Blaise raised an eyebrow, and I nearly slapped him. What was it with people and raising eyebrows at me lately?

"Is that the whole story?"

"No."

"And what is?"

"None of your business. Go ask bloody _Pansy_," I spat, completely irritated now, shoes clacking on the flagstones of the Great Hall as I left him behind, sitting down for lunch with Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle, all of whom smiled at me. The expression on his face was dirty, like he had been slapped, and he did not sit with me today.

I smiled coldly, and returned to bantering with Malfoy.

Easy as breathing.


End file.
